When I was in the Army I spent two years in the Canal Zone from 1962-1964. It always was summer there- the place was full of palm trees and had iguanas. The Zone had areas of jungle-the US military’s jungle warfare school was located there. There was a rainy season, but for most of the time it was sunny with varying temperatures and humidity. In fact, the weather usually was quite pleasant.
During those years, my compatriots and I worked rotating shifts: six days (7-5) and 72 hours off; six swings (5-midnight) with 48 hours off; and six mids (12-7) with 72 hrs off. Then the cycle started again. Because of the hours, my outfit did not march or drill-we rode busses to our work site. We were authorized to pay Panamanian locals to police the barracks, shine our foot ware and even do KP. This gave us a little more time to ourselves when we were not working. On the other hand because of the work schedule and sleeping hours, we sometimes could not do things during the day. Nevertheless we spent as much time as we could engaging in summer fun.
I lived in the Barracks at Fort Clayton. I figured out that a set of locks for the Panama Canal must be nearby because from the barrack’s grounds I could see the tops of ships as they passed through the canal. The first foray some of us made outside the compound was a visit to the nearest locks: Miraflores (Las Esclusas de Miraflores). I watched ships sail into a lock. Then I watched it fill up and then saw the ships sail out as the other end opened. I did that once-if you’ve seen one lock you’ve seen them all. Soon I became blasé about seeing ships above the tree tops.
I also discovered that many of the troops in my outfit had attended college or even graduated. So you could say that some of us took up brain games. A Group of us played Bridge, for example. There are some photos of us playing on the beach at the San Blas Islands. These are not too far off the coast of Panama and we made a couple of excursions there during our days of summer fun. Besides myself, there was Ed Jensen, John Harry Curtis (Harry) and William Morris Groover (Bill). We were not stellar players, but we had fun. Sometimes we.went into Panama City to play in the lounge at the Hotel Tivoli. We would sip Cointreau or Drambui while we played. I doubt this sharpened our playing, but we did not really care who won-the point was to get off the compound. I once noticed a bunch of dead ants in my glass. At first I thought this was a local delicacy, but the waiter was embarrassed at these trespassers and gave us a free round. If one of the others could not play, the fourth was Dick Wilmot.
There was a racetrack in Panama-the Hippodromo. It was a sad-looking track and the horses were not thrilling to watch. Going there, however, gave us something else to do. Harry thought he had figured out a betting system and we tried that two or three times before we decided it was a bust. We lost little because on our salaries as enlisted men we did not bet much.
After we lost interest in the horses, we went to a couple of bull fights at a small ring in Panama City. I have no idea how widespread this “sport” was in the Americas but I suspect the ring in Panama was small potatoes. The stands were not full, but there were respectable crowds. The bull of course always lost. I did not like this spectacle and I went only twice.
I spent a lot of time reading. There was a small library on base and a bookstore in Panama where I could buy English-language books at a mark-up. In two years I read over 100 books-I have the list somewhere. I kept a vocabulary list-troglodyte was my favorite word. This reminded me of some of the sergeants I met during my service. After that came defalcation, peculation (synonyms) and peregrination.
The other main diversion during the endless summer in the Zone was drinking, either in the enlisted men’s lounge or in Panama. The on-base bar had happy hour where rum and coke cost 25 cents. I would order six drinks during the hour but drink them over the course of at least two hours. I remember throwing up once or twice in the latrine in the barracks.
In Panama City the preferred places to gather were the bars on J and K Streets-Calle J and K. U.S. dollars were readily accepted-probably preferred over the Balboa, the Panamanian currency. The favorite drink was rum and coke with lemon-Ron y cola con limon. The local rum was Carta Vieja. We crowded around the bars buying drinks with many GI’s vying for the attention of local women at the bars. I never bought any of them drinks that of course were way over-priced. A woman called “Maggie the Cat” was a favorite. I wandered off a couple of times with ladies of the night. Once I woke in a house somewhere in the City, having no idea where I was. I was lost but finally made it back to base. I was lucky I did not get rolled, something that happened to a guy in the barracks. On another occasion a friend and I turned up in a taxi at the MP shack at the entrance of Fort Clayton. The guards told us never to do that again and let us on base. Toward the end of my tour I let up on the drinking which probably was a good move.
My tour and summer fun ended at the end of September 1964 when I shipped back to the US.